


Running To Stand Still

by AsheTarasovich (natalieashe), Boffin1710, natalieashe



Series: Can't Drown My Demons, They Know How To Swim [10]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Alec Hates Tea, Established Relationship, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, James Sleeps Through This Story, M/M, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-06-09 15:24:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6912751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natalieashe/pseuds/AsheTarasovich, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boffin1710/pseuds/Boffin1710, https://archiveofourown.org/users/natalieashe/pseuds/natalieashe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alec is taking the first steps to a healthier way of dealing with his demons.  Q is always supportive.  James is snoring.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Running To Stand Still

“Wandering the flat in the small dark hours is my thing.”

Q leans one hip against the edge of the kitchen counter and folds his arms, like he’s actually pissed at Alec for stealing his signature move.

Alec glances at him fondly from his perch on the stool at the breakfast bar. This mussed up toddler of a man, with wild bed hair and pyjama pants hanging so low on his hips they are in danger of falling right off, is always the one who notices when Alec is not where he should be, be that on a mission, or in their bed.

“James asleep?” He asks, knowing full well he must be or Q would not be wandering around in the night either.

“Out for the count. He had a rough time.”

Alec nods. He knows what it's like. “Let him sleep it off.” With a deep sigh he turns his attention back to the mission file he was trying to read, not telling Q to return to bed, but not encouraging him to stay either.

Q shrugs and fetches a glass, reaches for the bottle of spirit that always sits by Alec’s elbow while he commits mission data to memory. It is nowhere to be seen. Absent. Instead Alec’s fingers are curled around a steaming mug.

“Coffee?” Q arches an eyebrow, wondering if they have reached the point where an unhealthy portion of the water used to make the coffee was actually concealed alcohol. He feels bad for even considering it. “You know you won’t sleep?”

Alec smiles ruefully and pushes the half empty mug across the counter towards his young lover. Q doesn't sniff it. They all cope in their own way.

“Tea actually. Earl Grey with fuck knows how much honey to make it palatable.”

“That’s…”

“Your tea, I know.”

Q swaps his empty glass for a mug and flicks on the kettle. They wait in silence for it to boil, exchanging a grin when James’ faint snores reach them. Q makes himself a brew and tops Alec’s mug with more hot water.

“I was going to say ‘weird’ or ‘freaky’, but I’m going with ‘concerning’. Tea is not… You.”

Q rounds the counter and sets his mug beside Alec’s, stepping between his lover’s legs. Alec pulls him close and strong arms circle Q’s waist. Alec drops his forehead to Q’s bare shoulder and just breathes, letting the tension flow out with each exhalation. Holding him achieves far more than the revoltingly perfumed sweet tea ever could.

“Sometimes I feel like I’m running just to stand still. Do you know what I mean?” Alec sighs against Q’s skin.

“Not really. Tell me?” Q’s fingers push into the short strands of blonde hair at Alec’s nape, scratching lightly, comforting his lover.

“Trying to outrun bad memories. Never facing up to them, but still hearing the screams, seeing their faces… So much easier to drown the bastards in vodka. How do I move forward when each new mission brings more?”

“There’s no reason to think this next will be traumatic. All of the Intel suggests it will be straightforward. A quick in and out.” Q soothes, pressing closer to share the warmth of his lean body.

“No guarantee it won’t be.”

“No. No guarantees.” Q can't give him that. It's unfair of Alec to ask the impossible in their world where nothing is certain and so much is horrid. They are silent again, locked in an embrace that communicates what they don’t say. Can’t say.

“You’ll find a better way in time” Q whispers, afraid to let him go. “Just, please… Don’t give up.”


End file.
